Sakura: My Submission
by Ellusion
Summary: Go home and prepare your body for me. Clean youself. Shave yourself. All over. Put on the most seductive dress you own. Then knock on my door at exactly midnight. This is your only chance. If you miss it, you will stay safe. But you don't want safety.
1. Chapter 1

**The Forest.**

_**The children are told not to go into the forest that lies just beyond the safe confines of their village. There is no law there, only wilderness, wild animals, and the absense of chaperoned eyes. But there is the chance to explore, the alluring darkness, and the fact that it is prohibited...these are impossible to resist. **_

_**And once inside, they want to go farther and farther.**_

_*****_

I think to myself, What am I doing here? What's wrong with me? Why am I approaching his house in the middle of the night, shaved and scented, teetering on these black stilettos and wishing that the thong didn't cut into my skin so tight?

There's a knot in my stomach. When I reach the front porch I feel like swaying. The breaths that I remind myself to take are shallow, panicked.

Just as I reach a trembling hand out to knock on the door, he opens it from inside. Has he been waiting on me? I want to find a clock somewhere so I can check on the time—he said midnight, exact. Am I on time? I have to be. I can't have been late.

He doesn't say any kind of greeting, and his face is unreadable. He just gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and places a hand on my lower back, pulling me inside, into a house with no lights. Not that it's very dark; he has placed red candles on every available surface. Tabletops, bookshelves, coffee tables. I'm thankful for the golden light and the warmth that they fill the house with—it is New Year's Eve, and snowing.

There is only one spot there the candles do not rest; a small cabinet stand. On the flat top is a small black statue of a woman, in a prostrate, almost bowing position, obsidian hair covering her face entirely.

I'm shaking beneath my coat. Nothing to do with the outside temperature—truthfully, I feel feverishly hot. I try to quit trembling, but I can't. I can't speak, either, so I just give him a terrified smile for a greeting. What's about to happen to me is going to leave me changed forever. I don't even know what kind of girl I'll be when I leave, but I'm certain that, when I leave here, when I leave him, I will be a different person.

Just like me, he doesn't say a word. But he's completely different from me: he is so comfortable with the silence that fills me with tension.

The candlelight makes his eyes black and red. He just looks at me, straight, no possibility of breaking eye contact. I remember my sixteenth birthday, where my father said that I was growing into a young woman. I had thought that they were kind words, but now I see just how wrong he was, because I feel like a speck of dust on the hide of a mouse, standing here in front of a this ruby-eyed god. I know he's going to do things to me. I know he's unstoppable.

But the last thing I want is for him to stop.

Very slowly, he unzips my coat. The zipper moans beneath his steady fingers. I don't move an inch, until the coat falls to the floor. The sound makes me jump. He doesn't even smile at my weakness, proof that he is not easy to please.

I want to kiss him. I don't even attempt to try.

I want him to kiss me. He won't. He just looks me in the eye with all the patience of a black panther waiting in the treetops. Never speaking. I break eye contact—so painfully shy, I've always been like that—and instead focus on his hands. My body is already waiting for their touch. But I say nothing.

It almost comes as a shock, the realization. I'm _savoring_ this. The anticipation. The waiting. The not knowing. This is the first time that I'm living out my fantasies with him, but he's not the same young man that I see every day, he's someone else. Someone more powerful, more in control, more skilled than the already magical being that I know. I came here tonight expecting a powerful man, not fully understanding just how powerful this man could be.

He uses both hands and with feather-light control he steers me further into the house. My mouth is dry. He reaches out one hand for the back of my neck. I think, for a second, that he's going to pull me close, going to take me in his arms, but he doesn't. He just threads his fingers through the strands of hair at my nape.

My heart is pounding. I suck in air. I lower my eyes. I listen to the silence. A heavy, penetrating, all-pervasive silence, the kind that makes you feel like you are not only alone, but helpless against any threat.

And here I am. A virgin at the mercy of a living demon.

He takes a step back, removing his hand from my hair, and I have to choke back a protest. I want him to touch me. I want him. I'm his. From now on, forever, I'm his and no one else's. My body screams for the tips of his fingers that leave fire wherever they roam. I can even feel his eyes on me, focused between my thighs, cutting through my clothing like an incision.

I savor those burning eyes.

"Listen to me."

I jump.

The sound of his voice is like a _chidori_ to my brain, and I'm immediately alert and ready. Ready to do anything. He stares at me for a while, not at my eyes but _down there_, then at last walks up to me and reaches out a single hand. It stays low, reaching underneath the hem of my dress and I feel it—blind and slow and accurate—touch the black material over my swelling cunt.

His fingers are very, very precise.

"Pay attention."

His words are my air. I want him to kiss me so badly. I want his fingers on my skin, on my pussy, but they stay on the barrier of fabric and it makes me want to scream.

I look at him.

"You're mine, Sakura. You'll stay mine. And I want to be proud of you."

I'll do anything to make him proud.

Anything.

The ghost that are his fingertips are sliding over the black silk. "What you experience with me tonight, you will never be able to experience from anyone else. No one has ever treated you like the way I'm going to treat you."

Truer words have never been spoken.

"Tonight, you will want to scream. But you'll be silenced."

My voice is mute, yet that hasn't stopped my body language from crying out.

"You'll want to watch what I do. But you'll be blindfolded."

I can't see through tears of ecstasy, anyway.

"You'll want to escape. But you'll be tied up."

I will _never_ leave you.

"You'll want to beg, and you'll hope that I will do certain things. But you'll have no control. And I will do whatever I want with you."

Yes.

_YES._

Do anything you want to me, Sasuke.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Cliff.**

**_At the edge of the precipice, people often feel lighthearted, both fearfull and dizzy. For a moment they can imagine themselves falling over the edge to their death. And yet still, for the most insane of reasons, they all realize that a part of them is tempted to jump._**

**_*_**

I watch his fingers move to the bottom of my dress. Very slowly, he slides the silk up over my legs, my hips, my waist, my back, my shoulders. I lift my arms and the dress falls to the ground.

I stay where I am, a frightened statue on stiletto heels, in my thong and bra, all the same ink black color, and I feel more and more afraid. I don't like my body. It doesn't look anything like a real woman, too skinny, too flat—

"You're beautiful."

I gasp and smile at the same time.

He takes my right hand in his and turns me around, as if in a slow waltz. I know he's giving me a once-over. I know how many girls in the village want him, how many go after him, and they are all so much prettier than me. I lower my eyes and pray, while instinct takes over and I arch my back, adding more curve to my ass.

Silence.

Not a word from him.

I can't even hear his breathing anymore.

I'm shaking.

Finally he stops inspecting me, and he reaches both hands behind his head, undoing his forehead protector. The straps, thin and strong, bend to his will and unravel without complication. I assume that he's going to undress, and it's like a return to reality—for the tiny amount of training that we kunoichi girls have regarding sex, one helpful lesson was to help your partner undress. Should I help him? I imagine his skin, how smooth and strong it must be, like polished pearl.

But he doesn't undress. He plays with the headband, sliding it between his fingers. He smiles at me, and I smile back, happy that he's enjoying himself. "I want you to remember all the training you had about sex. Every lesson, every private tutorial, every attraction strategy and every sexual technique."

I remember the lessons clearly. Tsunade-sama had taught me and several other girls, knowing that we have weapons available to us that men are extremely affected by.

"Now I want you to realize that nothing…_nothing…_nothing that they taught you will prepare you for what I'm going to do."

And with that, me moves both hands up to my face, still holding the forehead protector. I wait for him to stroke my cheek. Instead, he ties the metal plate over my eyes. I hear the strap rustle as he knots it behind my neck.

I'm shaking. I'm terrified. And now I'm blind.

I hear him step back, back, back, and then he's gone. I'm now lost, trapped in this house, alone in a room I can't see, blind. I'm shaking, and he doesn't say a word. I can't hear him moving. I don't know where he is…but I feel the burning scalpel that is his gaze, slicing all over my skin. I try to imagine what he's seeing, what he's thinking.

I think about my arched back, my curved ass, over my pointed heels. This is terrifying, but I've never felt so awake. The blindness is making my senses ten times sharper. I feel desire returning back into my bloodstream.

He's moving!

I really think I hear him moving, slipping back to me, coming closer. I stretch out a hand to where I think he is, and I hope he'll take it.

"No."

My hand freezes in midair.

"Hands behind your back."

Both palms press each other against the small of my back, twisting and untwisting fingers…I've obeyed at once, without thinking.

"Better. You're beautiful like that."

At last—_at last—_I feel his hands on me, brushing against the back of my neck, stroking it, moving down again to my breasts, so tiny and inadequate in my bra.

A new feeling, and this one shocks me, terrifies me to the core: he presses the cold, sharp point of a kunai blade against my back.

Will he do it? Is he going to kill me?

The blade presses against my skin for a second, then is gone, and I hear a series of quick _whisps_ travelling around my torso, feeling something flash along my skin with all the weight of a shadow. Then I feel exposed air as my bra dissolves into tiny strips of ruined fabric.

If I had been able to see him as he cut through the bra, I know that I would have marveled at his skill, thought that he was a skilled magician of sorts. Blind, though, it felt like absolute sorcery.

I feel my breasts rising toward him like an offering to a demon, my nipples lifted toward his face, straining, inviting his fingers, his kiss, his tongue and teeth. I have a fierce ache to feel him against my skin. I can hear his breathing now. It's as calm as a lake before sunrise. He's much taller than me, and I feel it on my unprotected forehead.

"Show me your tongue."

I don't fully understand. Timidly, I stick out my tongue a little, holding it tight between my teeth. What must I look like? I promise myself to check, as soon as I can.

"A bit more."

I do as I'm told.

His tongue touches my tongue and he takes it in his mouth and his arms go around my shoulders, and I abandon myself to the kiss, sucking, tasting his mouth, and my head explodes and I stagger, my legs buckling under the intensity of this, our first kiss, _my_ first kiss. I'm not trembling anymore, my hands are responding, I hug him as hard as I can and stroke his face, blind and guessing, holding tight to him with all the passion I have in me, as if my body could be absorbed by his.

But already he's leaving my mouth. Pulling away from me. Leaving.

My body is rejected by his.

I stay where I am, struggling against the spasms that shudder through me. I can't bear not being able to see him anymore, not having him near me, on me, my mouth and my breasts are aching for his hands, screaming their sense of abandonment, demanding his touch, his scent, his taste. But I don't make a single noise.

He doesn't speak to me. He doesn't approach me. He doesn't touch me.

After a thousand years, I finally feel his hands on my shoulders. He grips them, then pushes me backward, until I feel a couch behind me. I fall and land with the gentlest of shoves.

Trapped, I feel his fingers on my nipples, then his mouth nipping them, his tongue licking, his lips exploring and sucking. I feel his teeth biting me, I'm shaking more than ever. Heat fills my face. I arch my back even more—I _love_ this painful experience. My heart is exploding.

All I want is to be fucked by this man that I really know nothing about, this man who's treating me as no adult has ever treated me before. Not with equality or respect, he gives me something that I never thought he would: his kiss. His tongue. His touch, fingers, heat, gentleness, pain.

"Open your legs."

I spread them wide.

"Touch yourself."

I bring my hands out from behind my back and began stroking and massaging myself, my breasts, between my thighs, but it isn't what I want. I want _his _hands on my skin. Showing him that I want more, _more_, I lift my ass off of the couch, hook my fingers around my thong, and pull it down past my knees. Then I start massaging.

"Spread your pussy for me."

I stop moving. Can I actually do that? What will he think of it?

I feel his hands touch my hands, one on my breast and the other between my legs. With infinite gentleness, his fingers intertwine with mine. With my hands still in his, he opens my legs wider, placing my palms on either thigh.

He spreads my pussy and I feel his sinuous tongue lick me. It cuts a path deep inside. I want to please him first—let me suck him, instead—but I know that I can only do it when he tells me to.

The shaking starts again.

His index finger takes over for his tongue, then another finger, then another finger, stretching my pussy wide open. My breathing is labored and spasmodic. His breathing is steady.

"Concentrate on what I'm going to do to you, Sakura. I'm going to drive you insane. You'll never be able to do without my touch. You'll wait by the phone for me to call you. You'll pray that I visit you in the night. You'll come back to this house whenever I ask and you'll do whatever I want. You'll masturbate every night. You'll never again be able to orgasm without my touch, though. And every time you masturbate, every time you touch yourself, you'll think of this. You'll think of me."

I'm overcome with emotion. This time I can't control myself, and a sob escapes.

His fingers stop their slow thrusting and he pulls them out. It can only be because of my crying. There's no excuse for me, I should have controlled myself, but it's just so hard when I'm this _happy_…

I'll do whatever you want, Sasuke. Everything you've said has always been true. I've never been able to cum without your face in my dreams. Giving myself up like this…

It's a dream come true.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Raft.**

_**Floating out to sea, drifting with the current. Soon the shoreline disappears from sight, and the two of you are alone. The water invites you to forget all cares and worries, to submerge yourself. Without anchor or direction, cut off from the past, you give in to the drifting sensation and slowly lose all restraint. **_

The blindfold that is his forehead protector is coming loose and about to slide from my eyes. He retightens the knot. Then he returns one hand back to my pussy, the other to my left nipple. "Masturbate."

I find my clit with my middle finger while he continues his exploration, in and out, plucking and strumming my breasts like strings. I'm shaking, my orgasm is mounting. I'm going to cum…

But he pulls his hand out from between my legs…and puts his fingers on my lips.

"Lick them, suck them. Think about what I'm going to do to you."

One by one, I clean the fingers he has just pulled from my pussy.

"That's nice. You're doing good, Sakura. You're very submissive."

At first I try not to think about the taste, but my senses are so acute now that I'm blind. It doesn't taste bad at all. Very warm. Not sweet, but not bitter or unpleasant. If it turns him on, I could do it whenever he so desires.

My tongue reaches for every inch of his skin. I even take his tongue into my mouth. I can't stop thinking about his cock, I'd like to feel it inside me, no matter where, no matter how rough, as long as it's right now. After I've cleaned every spare millimeter of his skin he pulls me up from the couch. He puts his mouth on mine and bites my lips. His kisses make me dizzy.

I'm totally submissive, abandoned, soft metal to his blacksmith's hammer. I know he could do anything he wants to me, I'd follow him anywhere, I'd leave Konoha with him to a distant village and devote myself to serving him as a slave, giving him pleasure, obeying him.

I want his cock.

I want to taste _his_ cum.

Standing there, he reaches down with the hand I've just cleaned and lightly touches my cunt again, just a brush stroke, and when he touches my lips with it I can taste fresh wetness.

"You're soaked."

I suck his damp finger without waiting for an order to do so.

He pulls it out, and I feel the change in position as he crouches down and his nose rubs the skin of my pussy, shaven naked for the first time not even an hour ago, after all those years of neglect. His lips suck on my clitoris, his tongue is tender and rough, it slithers its way into me, sliding into my lost innocence, and his fingers are working too, moving with increasing force, and oh, _fuck me,_ he's using his tongue so _good_…

He thrusts and sucks and teases and stops and starts all over again, with the precision of an arrow reaching the center of the target. My nipples are so taunt that they hurt. I can't suck in enough air anymore.

I'm drowning in an ocean. Flash grenades explode behind my eyelids. I'm dying. The orgasm is incredible, the definition of overwhelming. My spasms won't stop, they only accelerate, increase. My cunt reaches the point of ecstasy and explodes in his mouth.

Convulsions shake my body and I cry. I'm actually crying, sobbing, gasping for shuddered breaths.

He hasn't even undressed.

Long seconds pass. He's still between my legs. He's placed his hand on my erupting cunt and his cheek against my left thigh.

He pulls me to my feet and kisses me. I drink my own taste, putting into my kiss all the gratitude I feel for this unfamiliar miracle. He unties the headband and gives me back my vision, kisses me. Pulls my thong back up. Helps me slide into my dress.

"I'll see you another night," he says, walking me to the door. "Don't call me. Tomorrow, during the day, you and I are ninja. Nothing more. I'll send for you when I think you're really ready for me."

And that's it.

Now I'm back on the street, walking home, my head full of him, already waiting for his call.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Summer Storm.**

_**The hot days follow one another, with no end in sight. The air is parched and dry. Then there comes a stillness in the air, thick and oppressive—the calm before the storm. Suddenly gusts of wind arrive, and flashes of lightning, exciting and frightening. Allowing no time to run for shelter, the rain comes, and brings with it a sense of release. **_

_**At last.**_

_Please call me, I need you so badly. I dream about what you did to me, and I want more, I want so much more. I've never done anything so dark, so forbidden, so perverted. I want to keep going. I need you to control me, make me do bad things that I would never have the courage to do by myself. _

_You must make me suffer a little more, one more night, before you throw me back into the boredom of my once-dangerous life. It's not dangerous anymore. There's nothing that scares me, only you have that power, because when you let me be afraid, when you blind me and strip me, it feels like you're pulling me out of a frozen pond. I've always hated the cold. You're my sun, my light, my campfire on a snowy night. Without you my senses are numb. Nobody has ever treated me like you, and I like it, I really do, and I want to keep going farther, take me higher. _

_You may not believe this, but I've always been attractive to other guys, they're always trying to talk to me or pet my hand, hoping for a date, maybe a kiss on the cheek, and then you took me, you ACCEPTED me, of all people! They all think I'm so strong and independent, none of them could imagine me being submissive. Did you realize that? None of them could imagine me now, waiting for you to send for me like some medieval princess awaiting her dark knight, to treat me roughly, to give me orders, bring me heel. _

_Please teach me more of this evil tantra, I've kept myself in good condition for you. Every day I make certain my pussy is bare and clean. I'm making myself more and more beautiful for you, just you and nobody else, all I want if for you to mistreat me again, just once. You're my Master, you're my demon god, please don't abandon me like a child in an orphanage. I can make you come, I want to feel you coming, no matter where or how, I haven't made your come flow over me, I want to feel it, I want to see it, I want to taste it and savor it and know that it's because you get turned on by me, little worthless me. I've never even touched your body, never even seen you shirtless, never felt your cock harden in my hand, or in my mouth, on my tongue, I want to feel it deep inside my pussy, or inside my ass, even kinkier, it doesn't matter. What matters is you, your desire, your pleasure, I can be good to you if you give me the chance, I need you to rape me again, I need you to fuck me, I didn't know I was so perverted. _

_You've unveiled me to myself. _

_Nobody has ever treated me like you, I've never played a game this addicting, not even imagined it could exist, now I'm begging you, please call me and tell me to come over._Maybe one day I'll tell all that to him.

* * *

I keep my cell beside me every night. As soon as our training ends for the day, I activate it and keep it close. I keep my showers brief and bathe quickly, checking the call list once my hands are dry enough to see if he's called, trembling each time a number I don't recognize flashes.

But it's not him.

It's never him.

Every day that passes is like a blade plunging that much further into my body, that much deeper into my heart.

I see Sasuke every day, and he sees me. But it's not _him._ The Sasuke that trains by me—and Naruto, and Kakashi—is the same incredible shinobi that he always was. And I act, as best I can, as the regular Sakura that everyone knows. Sometimes, it feels like nothing has changed.

But it's obvious that _everything_ has changed.

Every time we talk as a team, I can't hide the starving puppy-dog look I'm certain I wear. Whenever he addresses me, says my name, I pray that we make eye contact. I want to see his eyes drill into mine like he did that night. But it never happens. His control is unbelievable.

He is _always_ unbelievable.

I hardly eat anymore. It's harder to study. I drink lots of green tea and pray for dangerous missions. I thought I could reach him, thought that I could make Sasuke Uchiha want me, thought that I could make him desire me just a little. But every day I see that he doesn't care about me at all. He probably is reveling in his own indifference.

I look at the other girls in Konoha. Every night I try to masturbate, try to orgasm, but it's useless—I always see him sucking a tongue that belongs to Hinata, or running a cool hand along Ino's curvy ass, or fucking Tenten…or even the adults. It's possible, isn't it? There's nothing that Sasuke can't do; perhaps seducing his teachers—no, the Hokage herself!—perhaps that's the biggest challenge available to him. And I know he can do it if he wanted. Of course he would want to. Kurenai-sensei is so beautiful, and Tsunade-sama so rare.

During these nightmarish nights I dream of Kurenai-sensei's back arching as he whips her. I dream about him fucking her, brutally, her cries, her orgasm…him drying her tears with kisses.

What has he done to reduce me to this state? Is this just the fact that he's resisting me so easily, or has he performed some kind of spell? Is it something else? Even though he's a part of my team, nobody in the village really knows Sasuke. I hardly know him. He could be something monstrous, something entirely different than what we know.

I don't care. I NEED to feel him again.

The things he's given me the chance to experience are too strong. I just can't resist the way my heart starts racing as soon as I think of him. Whenever I'm alone, in my house, in the bathroom, in the hotsprings especially, I recall being blindfolded, and try to remember the tone of his voice, his words, his hands.

I can't get to sleep at night without imagining his fingers in my cunt and his orders whispered in my ear. He was right, it's just as he said: I can no longer have an orgasm without his touch. I can't even heal myself, now. The orgasms are building, but they never come. I never come.

With every day that passes, the memory of _that voice_ fades a little more.

Every evening I go home and get ready, hoping he'll call for me that night. I wear only thongs now, or nothing at all. I've hidden my stilettos behind a folded coat in my dresser.

But he never calls.

Every day I see him. Every day my desire to hear his call grows stronger, but so does the likelihood that he's forgotten me, grown bored. The pain of it is unbearable.

Why doesn't he _call_?

I have so much to experience, so much to give, if only he knew. I need to see him again, to show him I can be worthy of him, to pay him some kind of tribute like he deserves, make him proud of me, devote myself to his pleasure. He can do what he wants with me, with my body and soul, I can rise to any of his demands, all I need is one more chance, one call, from him.

He doesn't know what he's done to me. He wouldn't recognize me in my fantasies, maybe just my arched back and presented ass, waiting for him, begging for him to do what he will with me. I'd like to tell him that I don't expect anything long-term, that I'd be satisfied with just being a steamy break in his otherwise normal routine.

The torture of waiting.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Sun**

_**When it finishes its course and sets beyond the horizon, it leaves behind a brilliant and memorable afterglow. Its return is always desired.**_

It's been two months.

Once again, without fail, I wait desperately for him to call me in the middle of the night. I sit, staring at my cell, feeling helpless. I wish I could call him. He never gave me his cell number. But even if I had it, what would I say?

_You said you'd call, I've waited too long, I have to see you. I can't wait anymore, I have so much to offer you, you haven't let me show you, let me try, maybe I'll be able to give you an erection, maybe I could make you want me. If only you knew how I dream about you in bed at night, your hands on me, your cock inside me. Give me a chance._

That's stupid. It's up to him to call me. What's the point of telling a man without desire about my desire for him? If he wanted to see me, he'd call.

I close my eyes and wonder how I, Sakura Haruno, got to this point. I once had so many advantages. Now I feel like I'm a cripple attempting to fly.

It has to be over.

He's telling me that he's lost all desire for me.

After all of this waiting and dreaming and hoping to have his hands on me again—

My cell vibrates.

I'm pressing it to my ear, unable to breathe.

"_Sakura."_

It's HIM.

I swallow dryly. "Yes."

"_I'm taking you to a gathering tonight. Get ready, and get dressed. Something sophisticated. I'll stop by in one hour, and if you aren't ready by then, you will not be given another chance. Second chances are something that I will never give you. Everything that you get from me, you deserve."_

The phone goes dead.

And I, Sakura Haruno, have emerged from death to be born anew.

I drop the phone onto my bed and strip everything I'm wearing off, grab my shower bag and sprint nude across the upstairs hallway into the bathroom. My parents are asleep. Or are they? The thrill and danger of it, so minor and safe compared to Sasuke, brings a joyous smile to my face, a glint to my eye that I cannot see but know is there all the same.

In one hour, I slip the last stiletto onto my right foot. My hair is dry, my face made up, and I'm wearing a black silk dress with a slit up one thigh that goes all the way to my hip. I had to disguise myself at the store when I bought it, I was so ashamed. My cell vibrates.

"_I'm on your rooftop. Join me."_

Click.

I'm stunned.

This is really happening. I'm not imagining it, I'm not dreaming it. Is my vagina already getting wet? Or is it just still moist from the shower? Whichever, I hope it stays like that. I feel aroused, and scared, and excited all at once. Will it always be like this, now that I know he hasn't forgotten me?

The years of training take control, and I practically fly out of my open window and ascend to the roof of my house. I find him—_it's HIM—_and he's smiling. He looks like a classic example of precision and finesse, dressed in a black suit and black tie. His headband is missing again. I'm glad that I left mine behind.

During the day we are shinobi. During the night, we are so different, we have no need for protection of any sort. Dangers are welcome.

He smiles, just an upward curving of lips, holds out his hand, and kisses me on the cheek. Then he takes a step back and looks me up and down. Gradually, his expression changes. I recognize that look in his eyes.

I've fantasized about it for months.

I know that my dress fits me like a glove, I know that I'm in a little better shape than two months ago and his eyes notice everything. My black heels have four very thin straps that cross over my foot, like ropes tying a body down to be raped.

He likes me.

Without even a word from him, I join my hands behind my back.

He smiles and teeth are visible. he's delighted that I haven't forgotten.

"I thought you didn't like me anymore," I say, a whisper.

"You were wrong."

I want to ask him why, why so long? But I don't dare. Of course. So instead I ask, "Where are we going tonight?"

His hands have climbed up my bare thighs.

"Later. Tonight was going to be for my pleasure only. But you've surprised me a little. You've been taking care of yourself, and you know how to dress well. For that, you deserve a reward." And then he kisses my lips for a long, long time.

No tongue.

But his lips are so smooth, he kisses so softly, I don't need it, I've never even heard of a kiss like this making a person feel such intimacy. Is it a tease? Or a preview? Will he be tender to me tonight, like this romantic kiss?

His hands undo the tiny zipper located in the back of my dress. It slides down, rippling into a silk puddle at my feet. I'm not wearing anything underneath. The night air is cold. But that's not why my nipples harden into firm nubs, or why I start to quiver.

Without him asking, I arch my back. "Make me feel it again…one more time…"

He strokes my bottom and slaps it. The sting is welcome therapy, a dose of adrenaline after being in a coma for decades.

He asks me if I like the attention he pays to my ass.

I don't reply, just lower my head. But I look up at him, and I can't hide the guilty smile. I don't say a word. I don't have the right to feel embarrassed, much less have the honor of experiencing him spank me. Still smiling, he strokes the back of my neck with one hand, and my ass with the other.

Then he tells me to free his cock.

He's there in front of me. I'm allowed to touch and see his penis. And I'm not blindfolded.

Without removing his black pants, I kneel on both knees and take his cock out with both hands. I'm fascinated by it, it's so broad and heavy, and _so taunt_ it looks like its about to explode_._ Could he be this hard because of me?

I begin to stroke him. I want to watch him come because of my hands. I want to see it spill across my wrists, slide down my arms. I want to feel its heat. But he pushes my hand away and grabs a handful of my hair and pulls my head down until my lips are on his engorged penis.

I try my best, but I find it so hard to get my dry lips around it, my throat catches. I suck it very slowly between my closed lips, really applying myself, lingering my tongue on his mushroom tip. My tongue comes and goes, licking, lingering on the parts that I've heard are supposed to be sensitive. I concentrate on his pleasure, because his pleasure is mine. I can feel it mounting.

I take it deep into my mouth again, then pull it out again very slowly, accentuating the pressure of my lips. I take my time. I stop when I feel his pleasure rising, mounting, and for a few seconds I slow it down, keeping only the head of his shaft on my tongue, before plunging it deep into my throat again, savoring with infinite slowness every fraction of an inch of his most precious, erotic asset.

I NEED THIS COCK INSIDE ME.

And he's already pulling away from me. No warning, no quickened breath, no sign that I was even close to making him come.

"Stand up. I'm going to put a little dildo inside of you for now. It'll be fun, you'll see."

He reaches one hand into his jacket pocket. He kneels in front of me, uses the tips of two fingers to spread my cunt—"You're this wet already?—and slides a black rubber penis into me. It's not vibrating, really…more like _throbbing_.

While putting my dress back on, I have to hold back a shudder. The smile I unleash with schoolgirl excitement. I'm standing here naked on the rooftop of my parents' house, a sex toy plunged to the hilt inside of me, about to go off on a midnight adventure of sexual depravity with the most dangerous man I've ever known.

And I'm smiling. I haven't seen this man for over two months, and I've forgotten how good it could feel.

"Finger yourself."

I overcome my usually modesty and obey. Standing naked in front of him wasn't as difficult as this is going to be; this is a very intimate thing that he wants me to do. I'm touching my cunt with my fingers. Luckily, part of my dress has fallen over my hand.

"Keep going. Don't stop, that's it."

His voice is urgent, commanding, allowing for no mistakes and no mercy. Just like in my dreams.

I concentrate.

"You're about to come. When you do, I want you to scream."

As if my senses are controlled by him, the orgasm _immediately_ scours my body, twisting me, contorting me into a spectacle. It's been a lifetime since I've felt this kind of release, and I have to bite my hand to hold back the volume of my cries. I know that the entire country would hear them.

"You're beautiful."

I breathe in. Then out. There's nothing else I can do.

"That's your first for the evening. By the end of tonight, after what you're about to experience, you will have lost count."


	6. Chapter 6

**The Apple.**

_**In the garden of Eden, the fruit looks deeply inviting, even though you aren't supposed to eat of it—it is forbidden. But that is precisely why you imagine it, fantasize about it. You see it but cannot have it. The only way to get rid of this temptation is to yield to it.**_

_**And it is delicious. **_

"Come on. This is it."

I've traveled all over Konoha, been down nearly every back street and stood on every corner in the years that I've lived here. But somehow, he manages to bring me down the one dark alleyway that I've never discovered. It is a place where garbage cans sit, lonely, yet the path is clean and unobstructed. Dirty, yet organized.

The far wall at the end of this alleyway is the side of an apartment complex. There is a metal door directly in the center. It is painted rusty red, and I imagine that it blends well with the brick during the daytime.

"What kind of gathering will this be?" I feel like I'm being torn in two. And it's not because of the dildo--he allowed me to remove it after the long walk.

He smiles. "There are some questions that I haven't given you permission to ask. You have to learn to keep quiet and experience the fun of discovery. "

I don't say a word, just let him guide me down the alley. He takes me by the hand. Just as his sexual acts delight and torture me, I'll never get used to signs of actual affection. The touch of his palm on mine, smooth and dry in the winter night, excites me. I want to kiss him. But he doesn't kiss me.

Instead he pulls me to his chest, and envelops me in a hug.

An actual hug.

He whispers into my ear. "Listen to me. You are mine. You'll stay mine. Even if someone else touches you, or if I order you to touch someone else, remember that you're mine and I want to be proud of you. Nobody can hurt you when you are by my side."

I want his hands to slide lower and do very dirty things to me, right now, in the middle of this back alley.

"Once you go through the door, you have nothing to be afraid of. I'll protect you."

No one would dare challenge a god.

He places a hand on the door, a metal monstrosity that now looks like a gateway to hell, and pushes it open. The hinges are silent. He takes me by the shoulders and pulls me along, toward a metal staircase that descends into a black darkness.

I can hear screams and moans. But no echoes.

The steps go downward for some time, until I can see again with light.

Candlelight.

He has taken me to a night house, something that reminds me of a club, except there is no music and the only light comes from candles, hundreds of white and red candles that make this cold dungeon warm. There is a bar along one wall with a female bartender wearing makeup that transforms her into more cat than kunoichi. Her uniform is a form-fitting black silk stocking that shows no skin, but leaves everything to the imagination. I don't see anyone else.

There is a hallway down to the left, with closed doors. The hallway is much darker than normal, even though the candles lining the walls are really miniature torches.

"Hello, Sasuke-sama." She bows respectfully, but never looks away from his eyes. She is just as turned on as I am by his sight. I am certain that she has felt his touch before. "Something to drink?"

He orders us a bottle of sake and two chilled glasses. I've never heard of the label name, and she delivers it to us in a blue glass bottle without markings of any kind. He hands me a glass, pours, and places an arm around my waist, resting the tips of his fingers a millimeter away from my clit.

The liquor tastes surprisingly sweet, but halfway down my throat it warms and turns to lava in my stomach…and it's not at all uncomfortable. I feel alive, alert, something that sake isn't supposed to do…I think. I turn toward him and kiss him as hard as I can.

He returns it, with surprising tenderness. I'm completely carried away. The atmosphere is thick with sexual tension and lust, and I can hear the sources. There is no way to know just how many people there are down here—the only screams I hear belong to women. Just as I'm starting to relax, snuggled close to his chest, he stands up and pulls me after him.

We head down the hallway. As we walk past the woman at the bar, she leans over and kisses him. I don't even feel jealous—I'm happy that someone else can have a taste of what I experience, of who I belong to, and yet can never have. She looks at me as if to say, _I wish I knew your secret._

That makes two of us.

Sasuke leads me toward a door down the hall, unmarked and indistinguishable from the others. I'm worried when he reaches for the knob—can't he hear the moans of pleasure and heavy breathing coming from inside?

We enter into a much darker room. After a moment, my eyes adjust to the darkness and I make out a wide bench seat where a woman kneels, sucking a man's cock, and oblivious to the fact that another man is masturbating behind her.

To their right, a man wearing only an ANBU fox mask is lying on his back while two girls slide their hands up and down his cock, crisscrossing and giggling.

To my left, a woman is being fucked from behind—and making a lot of noise about it.

On the far wall, there's a kind of cross with a redheaded girl tied to it. She is on her own, apparently abandoned. I notice her nipples are very hard and the handle of a dildo protrudes from her pussy. There is a tiny puddle of come by her feet. I'm not sure if the dildo has been left deactivated, or if it has just been left running until the batteries died.

I close my eyes and search my feelings.

I could die right here and have no regrets.

To our right is a tatami bed. A very white man whose face I can't make out through his long silver hair has his mouth on the cunt of a girl with blonde hair. Her lips are the color of a bloody kunai.

She's on her back, her legs wide open, arching her upper body, throwing her head back. She's slim, with breasts that are a little bigger than mine, and they are pointing upward. I can tell by her pubis that she's a natural blonde.

Sasuke squeezes my hand and for a few minutes we stand there, watching the girl with the beautiful body twist and writhe as her pleasure mounts.

"Go ahead," he whispers in my ear.

I tremble and try to look in his eyes. "What?"

He lets go of my hand.

"Make her come. Make me proud."

I can't believe I'm doing this. The shyness is unbelievable, but somehow the spell he has cast over me helps. I walk unsteadily the two paces that bring me to the tatami. There's a knot in my stomach. I wish I knew what to do. Actually, I wish we were back at his house, tangled in his sheets. But that is all a fantasy, and I know that the only way to make that dream come true is to make him proud of me.

_If I fail him tonight, then I won't get a second chance._

The fear leaves me before I can complete the thought.

Slowly, knowing that I'm about to take a step that I would never have taken if it weren't for my submission, I sit down beside the two lovers, then edge forward onto the bed. It's amazing—I can hear my mother telling me not to do this, to go home where it's safe, and I'm deliberately disobeying her by reaching out my hand toward this masked girl's breasts.

There's the frightening possibility that she'll push me away…but she seizes my hand in hers and places it on one of her breasts. The room is very dark, but I can feel the softness of her skin and the firmness of her nipple. I stroke her breast and follow the outline of her nipple with the tip of one finger.

I turn to look at him.

He's smiling at me. Encouraged by this, I feel confident enough to go further, and for the first time in my life I touch and then caress a girl's body that isn't mine. Sasuke sits down behind me, and I feel the electricity in his touch as he strokes my hair and ass and cunt.

The girl sits up and draws my face to hers.

She kisses me.

The moment I start to withdraw—_this is too much, too fast, too soon—_an image of him being ashamed of me hit me like a lightning bolt to the brain. I return the kiss, trying not to think.

But I can't stop thinking, can I?

I feel her tongue in my mouth, and it is very, very soft. Her kiss is infinitely sweet, and her skin is practically silk. I'm discovering a woman's body, and it's incredibly supple. Her kisses get more intense, and she strokes my breasts.

We touch each other, taste each other's tongues, her long blonde hair merges with my short pink hair, I can feel Sasuke's growing pleasure, I can sense how proud he is of me, my senses are racing. She's a skilled kisser, very soft and slow.

I sniff her skin, breathe it inside me.

Sasuke taps the girl's lover on a shoulder once, silently, but the pale faced man gets up and leaves us without a word. Then Sasuke gathers my hair behind my neck and pulls on it, guiding my face between her legs.

I know what he wants me to do. But I'm hesitant.

I'm so shy.

"Do it, make her come."

But I'm so _shy_…

"I want to see you suck her. Do it."

It's an order, and I can no more disobey him than breathe water. I submit.

And for the first time in my life, I touch a woman's cunt. It's so strange for me, so different, I don't know what to do. I'm terrified of disappointing him. I search with my finger, insert it between the labia, gently push it in—_how can she be this wet, is it because of me?_ _Probably because Sasuke is turning her on so much by ordering me—_I part the skin a little and start, going between her slender legs and into her pussy, which is so much like mine and yet I can't get rid of this feeling that it's all so strange and foreign, it must be like mine.

My tongue lingers, turns, accelerates, I concentrate, apply myself, give myself over to instinct, or subconscious, I don't know which, my senses are guiding me, I push my tongue in and lick as gently as possible, _the taste_, it's slightly sweet, slightly citric, like a tiny tangerine on which I'm sucking, filling my mouth with, I can smell it—_it's exciting me, how can this be, I'm getting turned on by her scent but I'm supposed to like guys—_so I venture forward and begin to fuck her the way I want to be fucked.

I introduce one finger to her, then two, and massage the interior of her vagina, press up on her inner wall as if giving her a _come hither_ gesture, while my other hand grows bolder and goes a little further down and searches for her anus and I immediately put my middle finger inside, taking care not to hurt her, not to scratch her with my nail, her pelvis strains toward me and I feel something I never thought I'd feel:

Power over someone else.

I keep sucking and licking her, moving slowly in and out, I feel the pressure on my fingers increase as I continue to finger fuck her, she stretches, arches, offers herself up for sacrifice. She's shaking, my tongue is determined, resolute, my forefinger works faster, stronger, assisted by my tongue, I can feel her sweat, the moisture of her mounting excitement blinds me like teasrs, she's dug her fingers into my hair, she clings to me, bracing herself, and suddenly she cries and her orgasm overwhelms her and inflames me.

I've stopped moving my head, my fingers are still deep inside her pussy, the tip of one middle finger massaging the inside of her ass. I wait. I hear her scream mounting, continuing, becoming more intense, then fading away in a moan, a last shudder.

I sit up and see his face.

He kisses me, sucks my tongue, hugs me against his marble chest. It's tender, and it bewitches me.

I want to feel his hand gliding up my thighs to finger my ass, just as I did to another girl.

My hands move to his trapped cock. I ache for it. I'm overwhelmed with addiction for it. I start to beg for it, and it is a long time before I can stop:

"Please, take me, fuck me, it doesn't matter how, but do it now, I can't wait any monger, I want it so much, I've dreamed about it so many times, if only you knew, I've dreamed and fantasized, I want to be yours so much, you've taken so much control over me, I'm yours, I'll do anything for you, please, take me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, without stopping, I want to make you come, I want to make you come until you cry out and empty yourself inside of me, please, rape me, I'll love it, I'll forget the girl next to me and the circle that's formed around us, I'll bury my face in the sheets that bear the traces of so much fucking and I'll cry for you, you'll cry out too, our fingers will clasp and unclasp and we'll collapse together…"

He squeezes my bottom and his nails dig into my skin, his fingers touch my clit, and I squeeze his chest to me, and press my breasts into him, open my legs and my ass for him.

But he doesn't fuck me.

* * *

It's four in the morning when I climb through my bedroom window. He stays outside.

"I'll see you very soon," he says. "Masturbate from now until the sun rises. You now have permission to orgasm as many times as you want." And then he's gone.

I spend the rest of the dark hours with my mouth open, panting, grimacing as a line of orgasms rips their way through me like barbarian hordes. I relive every minute of this incredible, outrageous evening, over and over again, and it never stops.

I want to do it again.

In the morning, there's a message waiting for me on my cell.

**Remarkable. You were remarkable.**


	7. Chapter 7

**The Pied Piper.**

_**A carefree minstrel in his red and yellow cloak, he lures children from their homes with the delightful sounds of his flute. Enchanted, they do not notice how far they are walking, how they are leaving their families behind. They do not even notice the cave he eventually leads them into, which closes on them forever.**_

After waiting for two months to see _him_, I have a feeling that, after last night, it will be a long time before I experience anything remotely exciting like that again. I'm so glad that he gave me permission to masturbate. I can't stop. But the orgasms I give myself are like the flames on a tiny matchstick, and I'm used to the searing heat from a dragon.

I'll just have to wait for his return.

Get back to my normal, boring life.

Ino's birthday is in three days, and she wants me to bring a date.

This is quite possibly the cruelest thing she could ever have asked of me, of course, and she knows it. Friends have the privilege to request things like this. But there are only two possibilities for me and she knows it: either I ask Sasuke, or accept Naruto.

I'm not sure if going alone would be a bad thing.

Naruto is not someone I want to spend much time around, much less have as a date for a party. And Sasuke…well, of course that is more complicated than it seems. The Sasuke that is a part of Team 7 would never go to anyone's party, much less go on a date with me. And although the dangerous man that whisks me away at night has no rules to live by, something as tame as a birthday party would be ridiculous to ask of him.

Who knows what I would be getting myself into? I picture him fucking me by a punch bowl, with everyone else shocked and stunned and my reputation ruined forever, word reaching my friends, my parents, my teachers, Kakashi-sensei—

We would almost certainly be separated into different teams.

I will never risk that.

Going dateless to a party is a welcome embarrassment in comparison. I can get over the embarrassment I'm going to feel by not arriving with my arm in his.

I will never cease to be surprised at the luck some people have.

Ino's, for once, wasn't very good.

As I arrived at the dance house of the party, I am stunned to see that almost nobody has shown up. A few guys wave at me—Kiba and Akamaru looking the most out of place, dressed in their best suit and collars—and I know the two other girls from somewhere else around Konoha, but what I mostly see are adults.

Civilized, polite, habit-obsessed and predictable. I have a feeling that this birthday party will be just like them. Ino's family is mostly comprised of people older than thirty years; the only cool person I know that old is Kakshi sensei, and he's not here.

The music is upbeat, happy, and tame. The food is fine and delicious. Everything is predictable and there isn't the slightest possible chance of even the thought of seduction crossing anyone's mind. There's even a punchbowl. With a guard behind it, to make certain no on can spike anything.

And this is supposed to be a time where Ino is turning into a woman.

Are the adults trying to keep all of us in a childish setting? Or is this what being a responsible adult is actually like?

I'm eternally grateful I didn't bring _him._ My punishment would have been severe for wasting his time like this. I pour a glass of punch and look for someone to strike up conversation with.

I notice a tall girl at the back of the room who won't stop looking at me. Soon, intrigued by her increasingly studious looks, I head over to chat. She's an incredible-looking girl, with straight blonde hair and legs that look like they've been carved in pearl beneath the high hem of her red dress. I feel as if I've seen her before.

Then I reach her side. "You were the bartender last night, weren't you?"

"And you're the lucky girl."

She smiles at me, and we exchange introductions. Her name is Eve. And she is Ino's cousin.

Quickly, she explains that she was using this opportunity of meeting Ino's friends as a chance to work on her skills as a seductive kunoichi—"The art of attracting a target, and all that…" She knows hardly anyone at the party, just like me, and she's just as bored and disappointed as I am. On the whole, we both find the adults to be too refined and lacking in imagination.

Naruto arrives late and sees us both. He makes an immediate beeline towards us, not even dropping his present onto the pile of other gifts. I throw Eve a desperate look to get away, start a fire, do something…but Naruto arrives before I can whisper a warning. His mating ritual is about as delicate as a male gorilla in front of a female in heat.

Eve beckons Naruto closer, and whispers conspiratorially in his ear. I watch his face turn the color of strawberries, and he does an immediate shuffle away, stammering something that sounds like an apology. I raise an eyebrow at Ina. She winks.

It is very difficult not to laugh. So we don't even try to hide it.

I think of him, and how laughing at a member of my team doesn't affect me at all. Compared to Sasuke, I'm petting Naruto on the head.

Before any other guys can interrupt us, I put an arm around her waist and we both escape to a little patio balcony, where it's quieter. Below us is a different party, for college kids, and I'm insanely jealous that they get to have all the fun.

I look back at my new girlfriend. I'm captivated by Eve's exceptional looks, and amused by her chattiness and her spontaneity, something that I admit was in very short supply for my life up until recently.

Why are we getting along so well? She doesn't even know me.

I think about Sasuke. He'd like her, and probably me joining in. I'm already wondering how to take her to him. She's very beautiful, her willowy figure challenging the standards of perfection.

It's getting dark out, and the dancing below us makes me sway in time with the music. Eve takes my hand without a word and moves her other arm around my waist, and we dance. Nobody sees us.

I think of him. I think of what he would do.

I advance my face toward hers and bury it in the curve of her bare neck. She gives me her mouth, which I degn to accept. I think about him. About what he's taught me, his special training. I feel like he's put a part of his soul inside of me.

Amused by this girl's growing excitement, I increase the intensity of my kisses, slip the strap of her thin dress off a white shoulder, and delicately put my hand into her cleavage.

I don't have any _real_ desire for the girl. I'm playing with her. I've started to understand the attraction of playing with other people, like they are the most incredible, sensual toys. Actually, when I think about it, I find Eve a little disappointing. She's already submissive to me. I think it would be better if she resisted a little but more, or at least pretended to.

All at once, I'm afraid. What if he's the same way? What if it's all too easy for him? What if he'd have liked me to resist a bit? What if the completeness of my submission didn't excite him, but bored him instead?

I'm afraid. Instantly afraid of losing him.

Eve, drunk with the effects of watching Sasuke and I the previous night, is becoming increasingly daring. Her body moves in time to mine, as my hands caress her skin like petting a cat. She gives little moans, which I interpret as encouragement, my tongue burrows farther into her mouth and my hand moves up her thighs.

When I reach her pussy, I discover she's not wearing any panties. She's also very moist.

I realize what a strange situation I'm in.

As commandingly as if I were Sasuke, I pull her back inside. I want to find an abandoned room, get her alone on a sofa.

I don't intend to take no for an answer.

But far from resisting my caresses, she gives me her body, pressing it against mine, then throwing the top part of her body back against the canvas sofa and opening her legs as wide as possible, offering me her wet slit. It is recently shaved, with a tiny tuft of trimmed hair at the top, and it smells divine. I look at her and smile.

"You have a lovely cunt."

She doesn't notice the trace of mockery.

I keep staring at her with my little smile, unblinking, and I touch her pussy with my nails. My fingers are soon coated with her wetness, and she arches her back, pushing the full lips of her vagina toward me. Accepting her entreaties, I relieve a little of her frustration by placing my mouth to her, searching for her clit with my tongue.

I suck her and lick her and think of him, about what I'm doing without him, about what he's made me capable of doing. I've become a well-trained, self disciplined animal, thanks to the enslavement he's seen fit to bestow upon me, the enslavement I've become so desperate for.

Eve's cry is stifled by the cushion she's used to cover her face so as not to see me, to forget that it's a girl who's sucking her, that this is the first time that a girl younger than herself has given her an orgasm. She digs her fingers into my hair, the strands lying across her belly, then sits up and hugs me as tight as she can.

She tells me that she loves me, it was amazing, unforgettable, unique, better than with a man, she's never felt anything like that before. I smile and thank her for her compliments.

But most of all I savor the pleasure of domination.


	8. Chapter 8

**Water.**

**_The song of the Siren is liquid and enticing, and the Siren herself is fluid and ungraspable. Like the sea herself, the Siren lures with promise of infinite adventure and pleasure. Forgetting past and future, victims follow her far out to sea, where they drown. _**

**_They forget that no pleasure is infinite._**

The nights of masturbation are the best I've ever had, but I'm impatient for them to end. I've been cruising through the days like a yacht slicing through water, no longer content with the orgasms I receive by my own fingers. The days are passing, I know that soon he'll call for me again, but I need him now. I need his smell and the touch of his skin. I need his commands.

During the days, and the missions, even though he stands right beside me, I'm bored. The hours follow one after another. I'm waiting for the character of a nightmare to rescue me from drudgery.

To pass the time, I take care of myself. I get a little more sun so I can tan, have myself massaged with relaxing oils on the weekends. Every day my skin becomes smoother. I hope he likes it.

I want to surprise him, think of things before he does. I want him to know that I understand him.

I call the beautiful Eve and we hang out one evening by the marketplace. I tell her of a plan to join "us" some night in the future, explaining that I won't be with another friend, I'll be with a guy who's "a little bit of a devil, but I know you'll like him." She laughs and accepts the invitation. Without any questions.

Sasuke. How much power do you already hold over this girl?

I hope that he doesn't mind me developing my own schemes. A moment of fear grips me: what if he is disgusted by the fact that I've sought out and seduced another girl? Will he be furious that I might not belong completely to him, mind, body, and soul?

But that is ridiculous. I remember that he was the one to force my face between that other girl's legs in the club that night. I remember how turned on he was by that.

If anything, he should be delighted by what I've done with this beautiful girl. I offer that we go back to her place for some one-on-one "training," but she sighs and shakes her head with regret, explaining that her apartment is a small one and her parents are currently visiting.

An odd word pops to mind: _kinky._

I laugh at myself, then tell her I understand before we part ways for the evening, visions of the future swirling in both of our heads.

I go to my room and think of Sasuke. I want to go to sleep. But all I think about is Sasuke.

I put a hand between my parted legs and imagine him. Closing my eyes, I can see his own eyes cutting into me, remember how he watched me masturbate, my middle finger getting bolder, moistened by my own saliva, how he smiled when my orgasm overcame me and I was carried away into a world so dark and dangerous and filled with screams.

I dream about his cock inside my mouth, then inside me, forcing its way into my cunt, withdrawing and switching to my ass, moving in and out. I remember a movie scene that I stumbled on late at night years ago, flipping through channels until I found a woman lying on a bed naked. The man she was with didn't like women for some reason, and he forces her bottom open as roughly as she was expecting, and she screams.

I'd like him to make me scream.

But why won't he fuck me?

Why?

I imagine his hands on my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh, his abs rolling against the curve of my tush while he's deep inside me, held tight by my ass, my finger between my teeth, bitten till it bleeds to stifle the vulgarity of an uncontrollable cry.

My body convulses with long spasms.

* * *

"_I'm going to leave you someday."_

It always starts like that. Always. It fills me with fear and a horrible feeling, like stepping on a trapdoor and falling to my death. Here in the nightmare I can taste his words, and I shudder, trying to hide from such a dark promise in hopes to be able to one day see the sunlight.

"_I want you to do something when I leave. Every night before you go to bed, and every morning before you leave it, I want you to remember that you're mine. That I can do anything I want with you. You belong to me and no one else, and as long as I want it, as long as I want you, you'll satisfy all my demands."_

Just to hear you controlling me like this, I'd do anything for you.

"_I want you to savor your enslavement to me, and I want you to know that someday I'll leave and give you back your freedom. I'll cut the ties that bind you to me. And from that day on, you'll weep when you remember what I gave you, the pain of waiting for me and the pleasure of anticipating me. The way I controlled you. The way your body was slapped and hurt by me, and how you couldn't get enough of it, the rough way I treated you. Knowing that no one would ever dare treat you the way I have."_

My pussy throbs. I quiver deep inside, where I'm most sensitive, most fragile, most dependent on him, because it's so closely linked to his darkness, which is alive and mortal, like a butterfly on a beautiful flower that will die when the sun sets.

"_Every night, I want you to cry in your sleep for me to come back to you. I want you to imagine my hands on you, the strength of my cock inside you, even though I haven't yet felt like bestowing that honor on you. You haven't deserved it yet. Maybe someday you'll be worthy. And every night as you lie awake in your bed, you'll slide your panties down your thighs and you'll masturbate. I want you to close your eyes and feel me looking at your cunt while you finger it. I want to see you. I want to see your eyes flutter and your lips twist and your pretty face distort as the pleasure mounts…look at me…you're so beautiful…keep your eyes on mine while I watch you violate yourself, go on, don't ever stop, feel the heat rising inside of you, the tingling sensation in your lower back, the sweat breaking out, your heart about to erupt..."_

His Sharingan eyes bore into me, I have the impression that they're taking control of me, my whole trembling body, making me finger my cunt, squeeze my own nipples, they're already so hard. Make me do the most degrading things right in front of him without even whispering a command.

"_Now wake up, Sakura, and see me waiting by your bed."_

Tears still streaming from beneath their closed lids, my eyes fly open.

He's there, waiting for me. Sitting in a chair by my window.

He's watched me dream, watched my body, followed my every move, my every expression. My body still feels broken to pieces.

Somehow, I find the strength to slide to the ground and crawl the short distance to the chair he's sitting in. I rest my face in his lap. I can feel his cock underneath his pants, feel it growing beneath my cheek.

"Please...please..."

It hurts so badly, being such a powerless slave.

"Please."

I can only pray for him to feel merciful.

"Just let me feel your cock inside of me..."

It's a prayer, a supplication, a harsh whisper, the pleading of a little girl cursed and abandoned, kneeling before her Master, before her guardian demon, and he's imperturbable, doesn't even deign to answer her.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Shadow.**

**_It cannot be grasped. Chase your shadow and it will always be one step ahead, turn your back and it will taunt you with how close it follows you. It is a person's darkness, a physically visible mystery. After a lover has given us love, the shadow of their withdrawal makes us yearn for their return, much as the clouds make us yearn for the sun._**

**_*_**

The next day, I break one of our unspoken rules. As the sun goes down and Team 7 all start to go our separate ways home, I slip Sasuke a folded note. He palms it without the slightest showing of surprise, puts both hands in his pockets, and walks away without a word.

_Meet me in the basement club at 8 tomorrow night, I have a surprise for you._

I feel indescribable joy. Instead of him having to do all the work, I can surprise him and delight him with Eve. He has never fucked her—"He hasn't even allowed me to _kiss_ him yet!" she explains to me over the phone one night—and I think that having both of us at once will excite and please him. I've heard so much talk about how a threesome is one of the pinnacle achievements a man can have.

If he refuses to show, then that will be terrible…but also okay. I can live with it. It's not my position to lead or tell him what to do, and I hope that I'm not overstepping my bounds by doing this. I just want him to be happy.

Ah, but that is also such a lie. I want him to be happy, but most of all I want to be fucked.

* * *

After bathing and scrubbing my skin raw, I decide to wear a sky blue dress that contrasts sharply with my hair. I'd like for him to fuck me tonight, to let me possess what he's scorned from me so far. I'd like for him to know just how unconditionally devoted to him I am, that I belong to him. He already has my heart and my soul.

Now I want him to have my body.

I arrive at the red door in the alleyway on time. He's already there, but he doesn't look angry or disappointed. He looks excited, almost. I now know that all the fear and worry was worth it.

Eve isn't there when we get to the bottom. In fact, we almost have the whole place to ourselves—there is another girl behind the bar (Eve has taken the night off, ironically, so she can have sex in the workplace) but aside from that the place seems empty.

We sit in a booth and he orders a mystery bottle of sake, and he begins to ask questions. His tone is light, playful, letting me know that he realizes I'm having fun with this game and he's enjoying it as well. I hope Eve shows up soon. I feel dizzy with relief, but I'm very impatient and _unbelievably_ horny. I'm certain that my nipples are perfectly visible through my dress, straining against the fabric.

I keep my answers to him a little vague, enjoying what little bit of control I have for one evening, until he puts his lips close to my ear. He gives the soft lobe a quick flick with his tongue, one lovely flick, and whispers, "If she isn't worthy of me, I'll violate you in ways that will scar you for life."

His words make me tremble. I close my eyes for a moment, and I'm drowning in a sea of fear and lust. I'd like for him to scar me here, right now, to plunge into me with a single thrust. I want him to hurt me with his cock. I want to feel his teeth on my breasts again, have him bite my nipples and ass, spank me with the flat edge of a kunai blade while his forehead protector blinds me like on that first night.

I feel I'm his. Totally. Without reserve.

Just as I'm starting to lose patience, I see the stunning Eve descending the stairs into the bar room. I don't move, but she sees us sitting together and stops, offering a shy little wave with her fingers while her other hand moves south to her innocence. I wonder if she is wearing anything underneath her dress. Her feet are bare.

The excitement in his eyes tells me I was right. Eve, without her cat makeup yet still just as leonine and beautiful, is to his taste. She sits across from the two of us and shyly starts to talk. I feel her naked foot slide up and down my calf, and I sit up a little straighter, opening my legs a little, offering her my bare thighs and everything in between.

I know that he knows all this is for him, only to please him.

The conversation is lighthearted, amusing, and suggestive. She tells him how we met, and what we did within those first few minutes. The cool rose sake makes me tipsy, and laughter bubbles out from between my lips.

He puts his hand on my lower back and leans towards me and whispers into my ear, "She's lovely. What a nice little gift you've given me. Thank you."

It is the most beautiful compliment I have ever received in my life. The essential thing is that every moment I can give him should be an erotic feast for him. My own unsatisfied desire doesn't matter. All that matters is his pleasure. I'd give him everything, even the kunoichi I seduced all by myself, just for him.

The idea that I'm here to do his bidding excites me to no end, and I can't stop smiling and giggling like a little girl. Neither can she. Sasuke looks like he's enjoying himself with our childish behavior. He slips a finger between my thong and my skin. I'm very damp. He fondles me a little, then takes out his index finger and offers it to Eve. She sucks his finger between her lips.

I shake with heat and joy and laughter and abandon. Eve chases down the taste of my pussy with a few more shots of sake, and we join her. Boldly, she stands up fom the table and asks his permission to go and take a piss.

I take off ahead of her and run down the corridor to the ladies' room. By the time she's joined me, I've pulled my thong completely off and am sighing with relief as I pee, the door open. Immediately I give her my place. She's as drunk as I am, but she insists that I close the door—she can't do anything if someone is watching. We both scream with laughter. After a lot of teases and kisses, I finally close the door.

At the same time, I hear his footsteps behind me. He pushes me flat against the wall and immediately plunges his fingers into my cunt. It is just that sudden. I turn and kiss him. Kiss him and kiss him, hold him with all my strength. His tongue is hot and gentle, I feel so good, I want him so much I could die.

I search greedily for his cock, freeing it without difficulty. It's very hard. Like marble wrapped in hot silk, given a pulse. I take it in my mouth and suck, my lips move back and forth, I lick him with my tongue, savoring each fraction of an inch he's allowed me to savor.

For a moment I forget about Eve, and I jump when I hear the toilet stall door opening. I lift up my head to see him grab her by the shoulders and sink his tongue into her mouth. He puts hands on her breasts and reaches inside her dress to pull them out and sucks and bites her nipples. I know that pain. I envy her.

I take him into my mouth again and close my eyes to concentrate on his pleasure. He's grabbed my hair in a firm grip, keeping my head in place, and I apply myself to sucking and licking this python that is his cock, taking it deep into my throat while I use my hands to fondle and stroke all his sensitive parts. I give up trying to see all the nice things that he's doing for my friend Eve. Although the moans I hear make it clear how aroused she is by them.

I'd like to make him come in my mouth right now, but despite all the zeal I'm devoting to his taunt cock, he remains totally in control.

Now he pulls on my hair and lifts me up and, with his hand still doing its magic on her cunt, he turns his lips from her to take mine. I respond to his kiss with a violence and excitement to match my emotion. I want him all to myself. But he immediately takes his lips away from mine and, still holding my hair tight, moves my face toward Eve's and presses my mouth to hers.

Her lips open and she bites me a little, but finally she succumbs to the combined power of my kisses and his burrowing fingers and she unleashes a string of gasps and squeals. Without waiting for his orders, I take the initiative and tease her pink nipples—my goodness, they're so _hard_—between my fingers and knead her firm breasts

I press my rear side towards him, my legs apart, my back arched in exaggerated fashion. I want him inside me so much, no matter which way he enters, I could scream. I free one of my hands and take hold of his cock, in the hope of drawing it inside me and letting male instinct do the rest, but he pushes me away and shifts his body until he's standing behind Eve.

I feel my blood run cold.

Her cry as Sasuke penetrates her, and the way her upper body tips toward me, makes it clear that he's sodomizing her. His cock is inside of her ass. The gut-wrenching pain I feel seems so much worse than all the torture and loneliness he's inflicted on my so far.

To hide the sadness that's taken over me, I close my eyes and kneel in front of her to suck her clitoris. She's making a lot of noise, the thrusts of his cock are tearing her apart in the way I dream about, with each thrust she screams, and each cry is like the lash of a whip branding my flesh.

My tears fall as she comes, violently, leaning on me, her nails digging into my shoulders, and when I take my lips away from her fulfilled clitoris and look up, I see Sasuke throw his head back and laugh as he comes, with obvious delight, in my new friend's ass.

Why her?

I feel sick.

* * *

For the rest of the night I am haunted. The image of his cock penetrating that girl…I go to sleep at dawn with her screams in my head, and wake up in tears, seeing his smile as he comes inside of her.

Why not me?

Why won't he fuck me?

For months now I've been thinking, maybe he couldn't? Maybe he has some kind of problem? But last night I was proven so wrong. The violent way I saw him and felt him fuck Eve tells me that I am a fool, a self-deceiving fool. Of course he can orgasm in a girl. He's Sasuke.

The pain just won't go away.

I don't understand it. I don't understand him. On the one hand, I felt as if we had something, built up something resembling a relationship, a partnership of some kind, even if it is only Master and Slave. He seemed so much gentler at first last night, closer, more at ease and not as controlling.

On the other hand, looking at the facts, I have to admit that what I'm doing is insane. He doesn't give me anything, anything at all, he won't even lower himself to fuck me. How can I feel so dependent on him when he won't even grant me my one wish?

The power of addiction terrifies me.

I feel as if I really am just a toy. A toy that has only one purpose.

To be abused.


	10. Chapter 10

**The Father.**

**_He casts a giant shadow over his daughter, keeping her in thrall long after he is gone by tying her to the past, killing her youthful spirit, and forcing her down the same dark paths he was walked, all in the name of betterment. His tricks are powerful, and many. _**

**_The only way to step out of his shadow is to slay._**

**_*_**

By the time that Team 7's next mission is over and done with, I'm not feeling very well. I take a cup of warm tea up to my room (my mother would never allow a drink near my mattress, but she and my dad are both visiting friends for the weekend) and I collapse on my bed, my body so completely tired and worn. My heart feels sick, and sad.

I close my eyes and think about the state of my life. I try to convince myself that you have to take responsibility for your actions, and that I chose adventure, passion, daring.

But it hurts.

It hurts so badly.

I cry. I don't know if it's my own sadness, or the atmosphere of being deprived for so long, but I no longer feel adventurous, or passionate, or daring. The excitement has subsided. All that is left is slavery.

I think of Naruto. He is so ignorant, so blind that he cannot truly see what Sasuke does to me. He is annoying, and a pest. And right now I wish that I could tell him everything. I know that the idiot would "fight for my honor," or some stupid foolish thing, because I know that he cares for me. It may be some stupid crush, but at least I know that he cares.

With Sasuke, that used to be a mystery. But I don't think that it's very hard to see the answer.

I feel alone.

And then I feel _him._

I lift my tear-streaked face and see him standing there, by my window.

"Stand up."

I stop my crying, wipe my face with one hand, and rise. I haven't even taken a shower yet. I must look like hell.

"Take off your clothes. Then sleep with me." He begins undressing without another word.

I do as he commands, and start removing my shoes. There is great fear in me, and apprehension, and even a faint glimmer of hope. _Could this be the time? Haven't I earned it yet?_ I'm very intimidated by the thought of sleeping by his side. It's the first time that we're going to be in a bed together, and I'm more scared of this intimacy than of anything he's ever asked me.

He gets into bed first, naked. I join him. He takes me in his arms. When I'm lying on my back, he raises himself up on one elbow and kisses me. When I open my lips to receive his tongue, he takes his mouth away and puts it back again with infinite gentleness. I surrender to the kiss and my senses explode. I detect a tenderness he's never shown me before, and that I've never have suspected.

He spends a long time like this, kissing me. He's on top of me. I feel the weight of his body. The sweetness and warmth of his mouth are intoxicating. With one hand he strokes my breasts and my stomach and then moves it inside me. With dexterity that is unbelievable, he increases the pressure of his fingers. I feel as if I'm about to come. I take his hand in mine, and draw it out of me.

I beg him to fuck me.

He kisses me again on the lips.

I beg him to fuck me.

He kisses my cunt.

I beg him to fuck me.

He makes me cry out.

And then nothing.

It takes me a long time to fall asleep. My eyes never stop misting.

* * *

The daylight is streaming in through the blinds.

He opens his eyes, stretches and yawns and blinks. He seems completely unaware of my presence. He hasn't touched me all night. I don't want him to see my face first thing in the morning, so I bury my head in the pillow and turn my back to him.

If he wanted, he could seize my skin in his teeth, like a wild beast hungry for soft flesh.

But he doesn't.

It's weird how cold and empty I feel, as if I've been anesthetized.

In the bathroom, after I step out of the shower, he puts his arm around my shoulders and embraces me. I let him do it but my obvious lack of enthusiasm stops him for a second. "I'm not feeling too inspired this morning," I say simply. My emptiness rings in my voice.

Smiling, he tries to put his hand between my legs. I let him do it. I'm numb. Unconcerned. But when I feel his stomach press against my lower back, almost in a position to penetrate me, I turn quickly and tell him I had a bad night and feel really tired, and I slip away without even reaching for a towel.

I take the stairs three at a time, close the bedroom door, and dive into my bed.

I don't know what I'm doing anymore.

Sometime later, I'm not sure how long, as I lie huddled beneath the sheets, I hear the door being flung open.

His voice is harsher than I've ever known it.

"What is your problem, anyway?"

I can't answer. I wish I could feel angry, but all I feel is sadness.

"I don't like it when little girls throw tantrums, it makes me sick."

"…" My eyes are filling with tears.

"Answer me, Sakura! I can't stand it when you girls act this way! Do you want me to lose my temper?"

He pulls me from the bed, grips my shoulder violently and shakes it. Then raises his hand and brings it down as hard as he can on my face. I weep silently and stare at his hands as they rise into the air and come crashing down like waves onto my face.

Forgotten images flash into my mind: when I was a little girl I dreamed I was in a fairy tale, and I had a wicked stepmother who beat me to keep me in line, but I withstood the whipping, defied her with my whole being, each time it happened was another opportunity to prove how strong I was, how superior I was, even though I was so little.

I take a breath. "I don't want to do this anymore."

He slaps me again. And again. He showers me with blows.

I block one of them, and that tiny measure of defiance shocks the both of us.

I look him in the eye. More defiance.

I say two words: "That's enough."

He snarls, and raises his hand again.

"That's enough!" I say, and then stand up. The sheet falls to the floor and I face him, naked. "I don't want to play your games anymore! I can't! I'm not throwing a tantrum, I'm not making a scene! It's just that I can't go on with this! It's too much!"

My face hurts, especially my upper lip, which feels swollen and particularly painful. Blood mingles in my saliva. I still look him in the eyes. "For the past months, I've worshipped you like a god. But I can't play this game anymore. It's too hard for me. It's over. I can't go on with it."

In all these long days and nights, I've never once imagined that I wouldn't obey him. But now I'm telling the truth.

I just can't go on with it.

Sasuke catches his breath. And for the first time in my life I see surprise and disbelief flash across his face. He seems thrown off balance. Then he clenches his jaw and nods.

"Very well. _Point taken._ But listen to me. What you've experienced with me, you will never experience again. Nobody will ever treat you as I've treated you. You'll never again be able to have an orgasm without thinking of me."

His vanity suddenly seems ridiculous.

"After this," he goes on, emphasizing his words, "you'll go back to your everyday life, your little routine, your safety nets and ignorant friends. And I will be gone. You will never see me again."

I feel drunk and tired. Broken. Betrayed.

And as I hear his final sentence, I hope he keeps his word.

"I'm leaving."

* * *

It's been over two years.

His number has never again flashed up on my cell phone. He's never appeared by my bedside. I've never felt his cock inside me. I've never discovered what he truly thought of me. I've lost so much.

For a long time I was nothing but a cunt and a mouth and a set of hands, available, trained. So well trained. Perfect for pleasuring. Unworthy of recognition. I was only a plaything for a demon beneath the skin of a team mate.

I loved a man who did not love me.

I did everything and received NOTHING.

Naruto left the village as well, soon afterward, training with Jiraiya-sensei. He still doesn't know. I've directed my studies and training toward medical ninjutsu and am currently under the tutelage of the Hokage herself. There are days when I feel like I can actually feel myself begin to heal.

Yes, time will eventually heal wounds. But this one won't be fully healed until I die.

I'm recovering now. Recovering from dependence. I'll admit, I'm a little reluctant.

Time passes.

It always does.

One afternoon, I receive a letter in the mail. It's very short. There is no return address. But the handwriting is familiar.

_Sakura,_

_Jiraiya has been teaching me a lot of special things that I'm pretty sure Kakashi-sensei never would have. I can't wait to show you some of them._

—_N._

The letter falls from my hand. It's been over two years.

My lips twitch upward.

Maybe he's changed?

**_THE END_**


End file.
